This week I told my father’s story to several classes of tenth graders at a local high school. My father, his parents, and his younger sister left Germany in 1933 to move to Czechoslovakia only to be living under Nazi rule once again in 1939. Through luck, courage, and ingenuity, they then managed to reach Istanbul, Turkey where they lived the remainder of the war.

After my presentation, there was time for slides, questions, and discussion. One slide I showed had two photos – my father (about age 2) holding his father’s hand next to one of my father (age 90) holding his first great-grandchild’s hand. I asked what students thought had helped my father’s family survive the Holocaust, so he was able to live to have great-grandchildren. The first two answers I received were optimism and resiliency. Both answers not only told me that these students had connected with the story but also spoke to what I think we all need during difficult times – optimism (or at least hope that conditions will improve) and resiliency to continue on.

At one point a student asked, “Do you have any questions you wish you could ask your father?” This question touched my heart immediately. I never stop wishing I could ask my father more about his life during the Holocaust. I know that he would not be able to answer some of the questions because his parents never spoke to him about many details (such as how they obtained false documents to travel to Turkey). I know there are questions he couldn’t or wouldn’t answer because it was still too painful for him even towards the end of his life. Despite this, I never stop wishing that I had one more chance to learn more about his experiences. Maybe this reflects my mixed emotions when telling his story — missing him but also feeling he is near me and happy I am keeping his story alive.

Towards the very end of the session, a student commented that hearing me tell my dad’s story made it much more real than just reading about it in a book. What a great appreciation of the wonderful work done by Teach the Shoah and one that reinforces my commitment to keep my father’s story alive.